


You might as well be honest 'cause the body never lies

by manesalex



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Background Michael Guerin/Alex Manes - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/F, Oral Sex, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: Maria is staying with Isobel while her heating is being fixed. Isobel does early morning yoga in a sports bra and leggings, which Maria very much appreciates watching. But Maria can only handle watching for so long...
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Isabel Evans, Maria DeLuca/Isobel Evans
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	You might as well be honest 'cause the body never lies

Maria is just putting her dishes in the dishwasher and thinking about how lucky Isobel is to have a dishwasher, rather than having to wash everything by hand, when Isobel walks through the kitchen looking decidedly un-Isobel.

Her long blonde hair is up in a ponytail and she’s wearing nothing more than a sports bra and some skintight leggings. “Morning,” Isobel says, though her tone doesn’t even truly acknowledge Maria. Maria supposes she doesn’t have to. She still can’t quite believe Isobel actually offered her a place to stay while her landlord takes an eternity to fix the heating. And, yeah, maybe she should find a better place to live.

“Morning,” Maria responds by habit, unable to tear her eyes away from Isobel, who is stretching before getting into one of those yoga poses that Maria couldn’t possibly name. Though she supposes it doesn’t matter what it’s called. That outfit is leaving almost nothing to her imagination and… Well… She hadn’t really _thought_ about Isobel like that before now. She’s always been too annoying perfect and put together. Too fake. But now…

“Do you want to join?” Isobel calls when she notices that Maria is watching.

Maria barely gets out a “No, thank you.” And she forces herself to turn around and leave.

* * *

The next morning, Maria spends some time just screwing around in the morning after work. She’s just finished making herself something to eat, when Isobel walks in. Again, dressed in almost nothing.

Maria may not be subtle about where she places herself while she eats. She pretends to look at her phone, but, really, she can barely take her eyes off of Isobel’s ridiculously long legs.

* * *

The third morning she’s exhausted. Sleep deprived. She hadn’t slept much during the previous day. And she can’t sleep today because she promised to have breakfast with Liz and Alex. She just has time for a shower and to change into something that doesn’t smell like cheap beer before she has to pretend to be in a good mood. And, okay, maybe there are other reasons she’s frustrated. Her stupid vibrator has finally up and died on her, for one.

And how the fuck does Isobel have enough energy to be doing yoga first thing in the morning anyway? It’s rude is what it is. No one should look that good at six am, all sweaty and without a bit of makeup on. And, yet, Isobel does. Must be that stupid alien DNA.

* * *

“She does yoga, Alex! _Yoga!_ ” Maria complains to Alex as he sips at his coffee.

Liz plops into the booth next to next to her, nudging her to scoot over. “Who does yoga?”

“Isobel,” Alex answers for Maria, raising an eyebrow.

“She does it at six a.m.,” Maria whines, dropping her head into her hands. “A girl needs her sleep.”

“She starts work at eight a.m., right?” Alex asks. As if Maria is being the unreasonable one.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here until your heating is fixed,” Liz offers. Again.

Maria just groans.

So Alex is kind enough to translate. “Remember how she was in love with Rosa through most of high school?”

“You were?” Liz asks, as if it was somehow a secret.

“You could stay with me and Michael,” Alex offers. 

Maria merely groans again. Her head is still in her hands, but she is sure he can hear from her tone exactly what she thinks about that. Staying with her ex and her best friend? Whose sex life she _already_ knows way too much about? She’d rather have the six a.m. yoga with a woman she kind of hates.

“Kyle?” Liz suggests.

“No, his place is barely bigger than the Airstream,” Alex replies for her. “Plus, if _he_ doesn’t get his sleep, he might kill someone.”

“Max?” Liz offers finally.

Maria wants to roll her eyes at her friend. Yeah, she had narrowed it down to him and Isobel and decided that she’d rather deal with Isobel’s bitchiness than Max’s awkward kindness and Liz Ortecho moon eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by the time she starts that anyway? And isn’t yoga usually fairly quiet?” Alex asks. She looks up and, yeah, the look on his face is just plain evil and delighted. He’s figured it out, even if no one else will put the pieces all together.

She glares at him, but answers, “I’m usually just finished eating and ready to go to bed then. But it’s distracting.”

She can practically sense Liz’s eyes widening while Alex is fighting off a laugh.

“What’s distracting?” Michael interrupts as he slides into the booth next to Alex, stealing his boyfriend’s coffee cup and taking a sip.

“I can buy you your own, you know,” Alex offers. But his tone is fond, rather than annoyed.

“Yours tastes better,” Michael shrugs.

Maria rolls her eyes at the heated look between them. Yeah, much better not to be staying with them while her landlord takes forever to fix her heating.

“Apparently, Isobel is distracting,” Liz replies, interrupting their eyefucking.

“What? How is…” Michael trails off as it hits him. She’s surprised by how he just shrugs. And then she gets it because he grabs Alex’s hand and pulls him out of the booth behind him.

“Not the bathroom again,” Liz sounds aggrieved. “It’s my turn to clean it.”

“So why don’t you and Isobel just work out all that excess energy together?” Rosa asks, sliding into the booth opposite of Maria and Liz. When neither of them respond, she continues, “What? You clearly need to get laid." She is doodling on her hand with a pen as she’s talking to Maria. “And, if Isobel is getting up that early for _yoga_ , she needs something to help get rid of all that tension.”

“I hate her,” Maria replies quickly. Okay, maybe she doesn’t know whether she wants to tear out Isobel Evans’ hair or tear off all of Isobel Evans’ clothes. Maybe both. But that’s more than enough reason not to fuck her.

“So? Hate sex can be _amazing_.”

“I don’t need to be hearing this,” Liz says, sounding absolutely miserable.

* * *

Maria’s thinking about what her friends said all day. Tossing and turning in those far too comfy however-many-thread count sheets in Isobel’s guest room.

And that grates on her nerves too. Why did Isobel have to be so nice about it? They’ve never gotten along. But Isobel had heard that her heating was broken and had, for some reason, offered Maria her spare bedroom. As long as she needs. She’d never been that kind in high school.

Maria is used to holding a grudge against Isobel. She doesn’t know how to deal with this new Isobel.

* * *

Maria stews on this for a few days, continuing to find excuses to watch Isobel doing her morning yoga, watching her get all hot and sweaty. Until, one day, she decides to act.

Isobel is just finishing up her work out and heading toward the shower and, well, Maria can’t take another day of imagining what she looks like in that shower.

“Is that working for it? The tension?” Maria asks. “No offense, but you don’t really seem like the yoga type.”

“What type do I seem like to you?” Isobel challenges her.

“You don’t have a zen bone in your body. I’d imagine kickboxing would be more your speed.”

“I did take Alex’s self defense class,” Isobel shrugs. “Learning how to kick Max’s ass if I wanted to was fun.”

“Want to show me your moves?” Maria asks.

“My self defense moves or my other moves?” Isobel challenges. And, _oh_ , Maria hadn’t even imagined Isobel could possibly be thinking the same thing she was. Isobel gives her this patented Isobel Evans look. Like she’s looking at someone who must be at least ten steps behind. “There’s really only _one_ good way to work out my tension. I’m game for it if you are.”

Maria doesn’t hesitate before she pulls Isobel to her, hand behind her neck, pulling her lips down to where Maria can reach them.

It isn’t gentle. It’s not nice. Isobel is biting into her mouth, pulling at her hair. And Maria is doing the same, desperately tearing at those too-tight leggings that had left so little to her imagination.

Isobel walks Maria backwards toward the dining room table, practically bending her backwards over it as she shoves one hand under Maria’s shirt.

The hard oak is digging into Maria’s back, but she doesn’t really care because, oh, fuck, Isobel tastes so good and feels even better.

“Take this off,” Isobel says impatiently, not really waiting for Maria to help her with her shirt, pulling away only long enough to pull it over her head.

Maria can see her own lipstick stains around Isobel’s mouth and Isobel's pupils blown wide. She looks hungry and sex-crazed and more beautiful than anyone Maria has ever seen before.

Maria finally gets those pants started down and watches as Isobel steps out of them and throws them to the side, not even pausing to tear her eyes away from Maria.

Isobel doesn’t give her time to think or act or anything as she’s pulling Maria’s bra off and moving hungrily down her neck to one breast, one delicate hand cupping the other one, tweaking her nipple, making Maria let out a stuttering gasp and move her hips, desperate for something, anything.

Isobel takes her time, lifting Maria up just a bit so she’s straddling the blonde’s thigh, trying so hard to get some fucking friction where she needs it most. She’s ridiculously close already, when Isobel lifts her the rest of the way up onto the table, so she’s laying down on the edge of it, legs dangling off the edge.

And then- _oh_. Isobel’s mouth is right there and it feels so good. So right. Isobel lifts her thighs to drape over her shoulders, pulling Maria closer. She can feel it when Isobel moves to kneel on the floor, whimpers at the way she just grabs her and pulls her closer to the edge of the table, puts Maria exactly where she wants her.

Isobel is relentless, driving Maria mercilessly towards the edge and, when she comes, Maria could swear her vision whites out.

When she comes back to herself, she’s surprised to see how wrecked Isobel looks, the entire area around her mouth red and wet, her eyes dark, her hair wild.

Maria reaches out toward Isobel, offering, not taking, giving her the choice.

Isobel is tentative, but she takes Maria’s hand and lets her pull her in.

Up close, Maria can see the uncertainty in Isobel’s eyes.

She knows about Noah, knows what he did to Isobel. So she’s careful now when she kisses Isobel. She’s surprised by how she wants to take her time with her. So she does. She takes her time exploring Isobel’s body, taking her apart slowly with her mouth and her hands, watching and waiting for any sign that something is wrong. But there’s nothing. Just the gorgeous sounds Isobel makes and the way she says Maria’s name, repeating it almost like a prayer as she gets close. She can feel Isobel’s thighs trembling, hear the way her breath catches almost like a sob when she comes. She can see the way Isobel comes apart and then comes back to herself.

“I’m late for work,” Isobel tells her, minutes later. She can see the mask sliding back into place, the Isobel who she is outside of this house, outside of these quiet mornings.

Maria knows she probably shouldn’t argue or push. She got what she initially wanted out of this. So what if she wants more now that she has gotten a glimpse of the real Isobel Evans? But she does anyway. Because she _wants_ this and she _likes_ this Isobel. “Same time, same place?” Maria offers.

A smile, a real one, breaks free on Isobel’s face. “I’ll stop by the Pony after work.”

“Even better.”


End file.
